


Aptly Punished

by borislegasov



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Humiliation, Impact Play, M/M, Marking, Missing Scene, Power Play, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borislegasov/pseuds/borislegasov
Summary: Captain Crozier demands that Edward Little punish Solomon Tozer... As it happens, Edward enjoys it a little too much.
Relationships: Edward Little & Solomon Tozer, Edward Little/Solomon Tozer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13
Collections: Lieutenant and Sergeant Gift Exchange





	Aptly Punished

**Author's Note:**

  * For [for_autumn_i_am](https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_autumn_i_am/gifts).



**Solomon’s POV**

“You’ve had  _ my  _ arse whupped, but I wasn’t the one to give away her location, was I?” Hickey’s voice was edged with annoyance, yet laced thoroughly with agony; as if the deep lashings his body had bore threaded themselves deep throughout his entire body. “There is someone in this very room that is guilty of the crime that I have been punished for.” He turned and looked Tozer straight in the eye, a smirk curling at the right corner of his mouth, eyes narrowing: the absolute picture of smugness.

Tozer stiffened where he stood and firmed his jaw, clenching it thrice before loosening it. He couldn’t believe the  _ rat _ had given him away. He narrowed his own eyes at Hickey, and was only greeted with a shit-eating grin which beamed from ear to ear, a contrary expression one might wear considering the lashing he’d just been in receipt of. 

“Might you enlighten me as to who you are referring to?” Captain Crozier asked, tone full of command and still heavily laden with anger; the tone so sharp that Tozer flinched back away from it, as if he could sneak backwards into the shadows. He did  _ not _ want to come under the scrutiny of the rage-filled yell… and he didn’t much relish the idea of being lashed like a boy in the same way that Hickey had. He ought to have known that he wouldn’t escape without punishment; especially not if Hickey had anything to do with it.  _ Fucking rat. _

“A certain Sergeant Tozer.” He responded plainly, tilting his head backwards in a look of defiance, chest swelling in pride. 

Crozier’s expression steeled, carefully schooled behind years of practice, showing no sliver of emotion. The man was truly cut from a different cloth. He closed his eyes for a beat, leaving them closed for a split second (so short that you’d miss it if you were to close your eyes), as if trying to calm himself from the brink of explosive anger. 

“All but Sergeant Tozer and Lieutenant Little, return to your duties.” He commanded deeply, his voice dropping to a low, threatening tone with remarkable ease. 

Whilst the other men scurried through to their respective areas of the ship, Tozer stiffened his spine and stood up as straight as he could, feigning a confidence that he didn’t feel. He had held indifference towards the entire situation a mere thirty minutes ago, but now he was due to be punished in whatever heinous way his Captain saw fit, he felt a sudden need to visit the seat of ease. He barely registered his occasional lover approaching him to stand just to the left of him; close enough for their fingers to ghost against one another’s, yet not enough to give away anything nobody else ought to be aware of.

Once the hustle and bustle of the surrounding area had quietened to mere echoing footprints on higher decks, Crozier turned on the both of them, an almighty frown on his brow with a completely unreadable glint in his eye; one which sent an uncharacteristic shiver down the length of his spine, reverberating throughout him to leave a cold chill in its wake. 

“Lieutenant Little,” Crozier began, his voice remaining just as stern as it was earlier. “I am sure you are both aware that making a spectacle of punishing a Sergeant would be unwise, but I cannot allow this behaviour to go by without consequence.” He paused, lacing both of his arms behind his back, rolling up on the balls of his feet. “You are to escort Sergeant Tozer to the great cabin.” He continued, taking a few steps towards them. Tozer inhaled sharply at the echoing sound of his boots against the aged wooden floor. “And punish him in whatever way you see fit.” He explained nothing else, instead opting to turn on his heel, leaving an all-consuming silence in his wake; one that shivered between them akin to the cold air that often swept through the ship. 

“Sergeant Tozer.” Solomon trembled slightly, a sudden unwelcome discomfort bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like where this was going, and certainly didn’t understand  _ why _ Little had been requested to dish out a punishment - particularly one which would occur in whichever way the older man saw fit. He felt uneasy, yet accompanied by the unease was a stark feeling of anticipation which tingled over the surface of his skin, as if he’d left a patch bare to the wintery elements surrounding them. “I think we ought to make a move, don’t you?” 

Tozer and Little walked together in a comfortable silence, both sharing glances filled with meaning and purpose; as if they both knew what was about to happen despite how it was the exact opposite case for Tozer. He had no idea what was about to become of him, what Ned had in mind for him, yet he couldn’t deny that he was becoming increasingly excited to find out with every step he took forward. He mustered a small smile as they approached the door of the great cabin, his eyes boring into the wood as if trying to see whether anyone else would be awaiting them; but he wasn’t given the option to stew for long as Ned opened the door for him. He ducked beneath his arm and entered the room which had a lingering scent of alcohol within it - a scent which did nothing to calm his nerves, instead serving to heighten them. 

“I’m very sorry about… the unfortunate incident which sees me here with you today.” His voice was soft, a quaking undercurrent. Tozer glanced up at Little to see his response and saw only the softest hints of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth - a smile which, though incredibly small, gave him a much needed dose of comfort. He felt  _ safe _ with Ned, inexplicably so. Their relationship had not gone further than clumsy fondling in the dark, but he knew the man had discretion and loyalty to boot; and though his immediate future was uncertain he didn’t feel trepidation like he had mere minutes ago. Instead it was being replaced with something more akin to a lustful hopefulness.

Little opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it just as quickly. His brow furrowed and silence befell them for a beat, and then a gravelly voice shattered the silence like a pick to ice. “Remove your breeches. Then bend over the table.” 

It ought not to be called a request. It was a command, through and through, and there was no way he was in a position to argue with such demands. He traced his scrutinising gaze over Little, swiping it down his features and his body, attempting to gauge the seriousness within the command and whether it was what was to  _ actually _ be expected of him. 

“I said.” Came the commanding voice again, forcing a shiver to ripple through his legs, weakening them considerably. “Remove your damned breeches and bend over the table.” 

He didn’t hesitate that time. It was clear, now, how serious the command was and where it was due to go — it was blatantly obvious what was meant to become of him and just what Ned expected of him. It would be foolish to hesitate, attempt to argue or be defiant because it would only make it worse for himself in the long run; he knew that. With a nod, he turned on his heel and approached the table, busying himself by undoing the front of his breeches as quickly as he could considering his heavily trembling hands. He pushed them down over his firm buttocks, resting them just beneath the swell of his cheeks and bent over the table in one motion; squeezing his legs together as he did so. He ought to feel embarrassed, humiliated perhaps, at the mere  _ idea _ of being naked from the waist-down and in a way he was, but the feeling it brought with it was heady, intoxicating even, enough to send arousal spiralling through his body at an uncontrollably feverish rate. He  _ liked _ the idea of being bent over on display for his occasional lover (though they hadn’t really breached the parameters as such); and found himself wondering what the other gentleman’s opinion on the sight before him was.

He could  _ feel _ Edward’s stare burning into his skin as he approached him, his boots heavy against the wood beneath their feet, each step sounding louder than the last as the gap between them was bridged, leaving little space between the two. 

“I did as you asked.” He bit sharply through gritted teeth, lowering his torso a little closer to the table so it lay completely flat in a vague attempt to become more comfortable whilst he was appraised.

**Edward’s POV**

“I’m quite aware of that, thank you.” Edward replied smoothly, though the words came out anything but. He was being completely encompassed with a powerful desire to ravish the man before him as opposed to punishing him like he had been instructed to. His eyes dropped to the perfectly rounded arse in front of him, and down to the long legs which appeared to be trembling beneath the loose fabric of breeches where they pooled at the knee. The younger man was quite obviously feeling  _ something _ , and he found piqued curiosity when he considered the options - was Sol, like himself, feeling a very high amount of anticipation at the situation they had found themselves thrust into? They had both been searching for the perfect opportunity to end up naked together and now… the situation was right in front of them, and Ned wasn’t entirely sure where to start. He had the most delectable man in front of him, a gentleman who he ought not to be fraternising with but was entirely powerless to resist. Besides, he couldn’t well ignore a Captain’s orders, could he? 

He reached out with his own trembling hand as he reached touching distance of Tozer and placed his large, spread out palm over the swell of his arse, feeling the overheated skin beneath the coarseness of his hand; giving himself a few moments to indulge in the heat spreading across his own lightly frostbitten fingers, making the most of the warmth in its gentleness. As he stood, he felt a distinct shudder tremble down Sol’s spine and to his hips which wriggled once, twice, as if enticing him to move elsewhere on his body; but his hand remained rooted where it was, defiant against the soft movements. He was clear where this wanted to go, but he wanted to ensure that the anticipation had risen to such levels that the punishment became exhilarating to completely new levels. He not only wanted his skin to burn under the punishment to be delivered by his own hand, but he wanted his entire body to feel each slap ricochet. 

Once he felt like enough time had elapsed, he removed his hand from his cheek, dropping it to hang by his side, the other around his back fiddling with a strand of loose fabric found there. 

“Now…” He began, smirking at the shudder that trembled over the younger man’s body once more. It was certainly clear to him that anticipation had been adequately formed into a tight ball which craved to be undone. “I’m not going to lash you. Instead, I am going to use my own hand upon you. That way you will not have to go to the doctor before you resume your duties on board; instead you will have the private knowledge that you have been punished. When you sit, you will feel the burn and suppress a hiss. I will not be gentle with you, nor will I relent when you beg me to. Is that understood?” 

A feeble nod was all he was given in response. He scoffed, dissatisfied with the answer. He wanted Solomon to be as wired about what was to come as he was. Already he could feel a tightening in his own breeches; the fabric feeling tighter than they ought, the sudden warmth washing over his skin incredible and almost too much to bear. He was the hottest he had been since they’d departed on the expedition, and it was all because of the sinful man bent at the waist in front of him. He was not going to accept a half-hearted response. Without due thought or hesitation, he raised his hand in the air and slammed it down on the bare flesh before him, taking extreme pleasure in watching the skin ripple beneath the force. 

“I believe I asked you if that was understood.” He prompted a few seconds later after indulging himself in the sweet whimper that tumbled from Sol’s lips, his own body reacting to both the slap he had delivered and the resulting noise. “I don’t want to have to leave you here to report to the Captain that you are not only defying  _ me _ , but defying  _ him _ too. Then you will see yourself punished as Hickey was earlier. Is that what you want?” 

He barely waited long enough for the question to process before making a sharp slap down onto his arse again, the other cheek this time, causing a sound which reverberated pleasingly throughout the entire room. No sound slipped from Sol’s lips this time which only served to annoy him even more. He  _ wanted _ to hear the beautiful sounds from the handsome man before him; to hear the sounds which drove his body to the edge of his limits. 

“N-no… I- I understand.” Solomon’s reply was feeble, and a smile immediately tugged at the corners of his mouth in response to it. It had already become clear that the younger man was not coping with being in this situation - but there was a part of him that wanted to push him further into the situation to determine whether it was due to arousal or humiliation. Although there was no harm in experiencing both at the same time; it could be quite a heady experience. 

The only response that was given to the meek reply was another slap on his arse, this time towards the centre of both cheeks as opposed to on one or the other. He repeated the action again, releasing a grunt as he did so, the force of the slap reverberating throughout the entirety of his body, a shallow moan following it as heat spread across his palm, tingling sensations following quickly behind it, his own skin having been affected. He could only imagine how the skin of his arse, which was quickly turning a deep shade of red, felt. 

“Thank you for finally obeying the commands that are put forth to you."

**Solomon’s POV**

He was entirely powerless to control the sound that immediately shot through the entirety of his body and came out as a weak whimper; a sound which echoed throughout the entire room, forcing a soft heat to feather across his cheeks and down his stubble-covered neck. He dropped his head down to the surface of the table, resting his left cheek against the cold wood, looking straight ahead to the far wall where a small cabinet stood, focusing on that as he awaited the next inevitable slap. He hadn’t meant to be defiant in giving a response to Edward, and he certainly hadn’t intended to ignore his words - it had been a case of him being thoroughly overwhelmed with all the emotions that pushed to the forefront of his mind all at once, bringing arousal, pleasure, excitement and anticipation to the very front of his mind in such an overwhelming flurry that he wasn’t entirely sure  _ how _ to pull himself together enough to be able to respond to him. Instead, all he could do was lay in silence whilst the punishment was dished out to him, each collision of the large, heavy palm against the sensitive skin of his arse forcing out moans that he didn’t wish to release. Moans which came out higher pitched than which he spoke, ones which sounded remarkably pathetic and unlike the demeanour that he cared to present to others — but he was unable to cease making them because the sheer amount of pleasure that was being experienced from being in such a precarious position was unlike anything else; he couldn’t deny the presence of his persistent cock, throbbing heavily where it rest between the table and lower abdomen, the jolting movements his body made involuntarily giving him a sliver of friction that his body desperately needed, even this soon into the so-called punishment (which had quickly become anything but). 

“I-” He began to piece together any sort of response that might be adequate in terms of an apology for his lack of response; but the onslaught of slaps kept landing on his arse on alternative cheeks, and robbed each and every ounce of strength within him that might have been able to gather to form a remotely coherent response. Instead he opted for silence, merely pushing his body firmer against the table as if trying to wriggle away from the incessant slaps that were coming down on his arse again, and again, and again, in a non-stop stream. Each one was punctuated with a delectable groan from Edward (a sound which he would never tire of hearing, and very much relished the idea of being able to listen to that noise whilst being fucked relentlessly), and soon enough had him panting heavily against the stained wooden desk, his hot breath contrasting with the cold surface of the wood, feathering itself over the surface. 

The slaps stopped all of a sudden, and he stiffened. The base of his spine arched upwards somewhat, seizing the opportunity to stretch out from the confined position he had been requested to hold. He flexed his legs, too, one after the other… But that was as far as he got. 

_ Crack! _ Little’s heavy hand dropped down onto his left cheek with a sharp flick of the wrist, heavier than all of the last slaps had been put together, as if the entirety of his strength had been forced into it. With a heavy whimper, he pushed himself up so that he rested on his elbows, bringing the sore spots of his rounded cheeks out of the firing line for just long enough to allow the edge of pain to ebb away into something more amiable. His legs trembled heavily, his feet suddenly aching beyond comprehension, his knees shaking in protest of holding up his body which had turned considerably heavier than it normally was, weighed down by the severe pleasure and pain that had been inflicted upon his unsuspecting body.

“How many- how many more?” He forced himself to ask, his voice almost as shaky as his legs.

The question was met with a harsh, sharp laugh, and was punctuated with a heavy scoff. “Well, as it happened, I was planning on that one being the last of it. But now that you’re trying to take control… I think we shall have another five.” Sol shivered as awareness grew that Ned was coming closer to him. The boots didn’t give him away - he couldn’t hear anything through the heavy whooshing of his heart beat in his ears - but the mere heat radiating from his body certainly did; the temperature of which ghosted over his skin, sending goosebumps across the pale flesh, weaving their way around each and every one of his limbs whilst simultaneously causing his cock to throb painfully against the table where it was compressed even tighter now, protesting even harder and leaking profusely against the highly polished oak. 

“I’m sorry-” he whispered, dropping his head to hang limply between his shoulders which were now trembling ever-so-slightly due to his elbows’ defiance in desiring to hold him up. He fought with himself to collapse back to the table once more, but he didn’t. He knew he had been defiant enough as it was and didn’t want to test the waters any more than he already had. 

The answer, had it had been before, was a resounding  _ crack _ which echoed throughout the entirety of the cabin, seeming to reverberate for some time. His body jolted beneath the weight of the slap, his arms folding at the elbow with remarkable ease, the entirety of him falling weak to the punishment being given. The pain feathered across his skin violently, stemming from the origin of the sting all the way out to the edge of his arse wherein it ached profusely, his skin screaming at him to cease the onslaught upon his already too-sensitive skin. 

_ “Count.” _ The order was strong, booming. It became apparent to Tozer, then, just how much Little was enjoying this. How well he had slipped into the role had initially astounded him; but now it seemed that he was gaining just as much gratification as he was, too. 

“One,” he whispered, dropping his torso and head back to the table as he did, thus lifting his arse cheeks back up to the prime position; a movement which earned him a grunt of approval. 

Another slap against his arse quickly followed another, on alternative cheeks, though this time what tumbled from his lips was a lengthy curse, an elongated whimper of words he seldom said, obscenities that he kept for mumbling to himself. But he allowed the word to tumble freely, the pain now becoming too much; though it wasn’t just across the skin wherein he was slapped. Instead it was in his cock, too, and the base of his abdomen where his muscles tightened and released, cramping with the pleasure coursing through him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle it. 

“T-two, t-three…” He was barely done speaking by the time the fourth hit his arse, and he whimpered out the number even more feebly than the last, his entire body now shaking with need and desire. 

When the fifth slap hit, he only just managed to bite out the number before closing his eyes tightly, giving himself a moment to pull himself together. Because undoubtedly now the next movement would be to don his breeches once more and depart back to his duties as if nothing had happened (though how he could be expected to walk around with a prick harder than he’d experienced in some years was beyond him). He talked himself down from where his body had teetered on the edge of orgasm for minutes, each second more agonising than the last as he tried to fight away the intense need to come over the table; to just relieve himself of the deep, relentless ache that tightened his balls beyond all belief. Before he could stand, however, Edward’s presence was felt once more — but this time he was pressed entirely against him, the coarse material of his own clothes brushing harshly against the sore skin of his flesh, forcing him to inhale sharply through gritted teeth as the familiar sting swept over him once more. 

“Good.” Was all Little said, but it was enough to wind him up all over again. The precious moments in which he’d spent trying to calm himself down were all for nought, instead he became even more riled up than ever — a fact which was  _ not _ helped by the insistent press of Edward’s cock against his backside, nudging against his aching left arse cheek with persistence. Knowing that he had not been the only one to find such gratification from this activity was enough to spur him on to pursue something different, something new with the older man. He wanted, suddenly, to pin him to the table and have his way with him, or to drop to his knees against the icy floor and have him spend in his mouth. The possibilities quickly became abundant, and certainly didn’t help the issue that was rapidly becoming rather urgent to be dealt with. He wondered, fleetingly, whether this had been as sexually rewarding for Ned as it had been for himself; whether he had gained the same throbbing through his cock, the same insistent leaking… And there was only one way to find out. 

**Edward’s POV**

He’d barely managed to get ahold of himself when Solomon suddenly stood to his full height, using the weight of his body to send him stumbling backwards a few steps, his boots suddenly louder than they ever had been. His brow furrowed in confusion, lips parted ready to ask what on earth was going through the younger man’s head; but he wasn’t given the opportunity to speak. Sol quickly fiddled with his breeches, not giving him the opportunity to view his magnificent cock for all it was worth (though he did have an idea how substantial it was from their midnight rendezvous), and then stood before him with a gaze filled with lust and darker than the all-consuming nighttime hours that had plagued them through the never ending winters. There was a soft flush on his face, too, and ample beads of sweat at his hairline, threatening to trickle down his face at any given second. The man looked like he had been put through the ringer during the punishment that had been ordered of him, but he couldn’t deny that he had taken it like an absolute champ. He had enjoyed each and every second of it, even through the insistent throbbing of his palm and the seemingly endless burn of his skin (he could only imagine how Tozer’s arse felt). He had drowned in the heat that pulsed throughout the room with each moan that was made in response to his slaps, the sounds made each more tempting and erotic than the last which had caused quite the issue in his own breeches; leaving him with a hard cock that was not relenting, instead opting to leak heavily into the front of his trousers, further drops of pre-cum having leaked from it with each slap he’d delivered. 

He was tugged from his reverie by the distinct sound of knees hitting the floor, followed by clumsy hands tugging at the opening of his breeches, baring his skin to the cold air within the room without hesitation. His cock fell free from the confinements and immediately jolted upwards, a low moan rumbling in the pit of his chest, escaping as a strangled whimper. 

“W-what-” He began to ask, suddenly finding himself at a complete loss of words. He looked down at the man before him and saw a sight he would pray he never forgot. Solomon was knelt before him, hair messy, eyes darker than sin, cheeks flushed, lips wet and glistening under the low candle light of the room, his legs parted with the most exquisite bulge in the front of his breeches. He looked the picture of sex, and he wanted little other than to push him back and claim him as his own but there was also a niggling curiosity at the front of his mind which forced him to allow events to unfold on their own accord. The man seemed to have a plan, and he was filled with anticipation to see what it was. He dropped his head to allow him a more efficient stare at Sol, their gaze connecting without hesitation. 

“Mark me.” Solomon groaned, reaching forwards with a shaking hand, stretching out his fingers with agonising slowness, just enough to wrap the entirety of his hand around his cock, giving it a firm squeeze once he was situated. His hips jolted forwards beneath the immediate pleasure that washed over him, his every muscle furling tightly.

**Solomon’s POV**

He didn’t wait for a response before parting his lips and leaning forward to envelop Edward’s cock. He allowed his tongue to rest on his lower lip as he took the tip of him into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks just so to create a nice tight suction around him. He raised his hands to either side of his hips as he did so, keen to hold him in place; though it was difficult considering the sheer force in which his hips pushed against the touch. Still he held him tightly, swallowing loudly as he took him in just that little bit deeper, allowing the tip of his tongue to curl upwards and graze over the underside, following the defined vein that trailed across the underside of his cock, relishing in the feel of it pulsing heavily against his tongue; infinitely spurred on by the awareness of just how much they were both turned on by the situation they found themselves in. He kept his eyes on Ned the entire time in which he continued to take his cock into the depths of his mind; only closing them when the very tip of his cock pushed against the back of his throat, causing the muscles there to constrict firmly, the instinct to rid of the obstruction almost too intense. He swallowed it down, however, preferring the idea of bringing him off with his mouth whilst his cock was in the very depths of him; as far as it could go. He opened his eyes once adjusted, though, and was greeted by the most divine sight: Edward with his head tilted backwards, lips parted widely, chest heaving so heavily that it was visible beneath the thickness of the woollen coat. The sight only encouraged him to push himself even further, allowing the tip of his cock to repeatedly nudge the back of his throat as he hollowed his cheeks around him, the sound of which was so obscene it ought to not be remotely arousing yet it offered the exact opposite effect. His own cock throbbed heavily in his breeches, pulsing as if on the brink of orgasm himself. The sounds of his mouth around his new lover’s cock were obscene but extremely heady, intoxicating and remarkably addictive to listen to. He would never tire of it. He pulled himself away from his cock to give himself a moment to breathe, but was not offered such luxury as a large hand dropped its way to the back of his head, weaving fingers in the messy strands of his hair, clutching onto the strands like a lifeline. He moved his mouth over him willingly, sinking back down onto the length, tracing his tongue over as much as he could reach, eagerly devouring him from where he knelt before him. 

He had never thought himself the submissive type (quite the opposite, actually), but the idea of being knelt before Little had him quickly approaching his own finish, the thought of being claimed by him, marked by him, almost too much to handle. The anticipation was building heavier by the second and soon he couldn’t resist it any longer. He dropped his own hand to his cock, burrowing beneath the confinements of his breeches as quickly as possible to encompass his cock in his own slender fingers, squeezing himself at the base. The relief of such made a low moan vibrate up through his chest and across the silken skin of the cock currently in his mouth. 

“F-fuck,” Edward suddenly whimpered in response to the vibrations of Sol’s mouth. He immediately chose to stroke the length of his cock which was punctuated by another low moan which offered pleasing vibrations to both of them simultaneously. The fingers in his hair tightened once, twice, until his fingers stretched out against the back of his head, giving way to the ability to push his head forward onto his cock; so much so that the tip of his nose brushed into the dark curls at the base of him. It was a challenge he relished, however, and he swallowed frequently to ensure that he was able to take him as deeply as he was commanded - all the while he continued to stroke his cock hotly, heavily, squeezing his fist repeatedly as his orgasm began to build beyond the point of no return; a place he reached with unexpected speed, as soon he was spilling over his own fist, thick ropes of come covering his fingers as his hips juddered forwards, whimpery moans tumbling from his lips and down the length of Ned’s cock.

“Oh fuck, Sol.  _ Move. _ ” The request was accompanied by a sharp tug from the back of his hair, those slender fingers once more entangled in hair, using the anchorage it offered to pull him off of his cock; which fell from his lips with a strong  _ pop _ . He panted heavily at the loss of the intrusion, lips still widely parted as if expecting his cock to return. But it didn’t. Instead, Little’s hand wrapped around the base of his own cock, squeezed and jerked once, twice, and with an echoey shout he came; his hips juddering forwards, cock oozing heavily with come - come which quickly landed upon Tozer’s cheek, nose, chin, and some on his tongue, making a complete mess of him. But it was a mess that he was glad to become, so he merely closed his eyes as the warmth continued to spread over his face, each thick string punctuated with a moan, determinedly keeping himself completely still to allow him to capture each and every drop with his own skin. 

“Solomon,” Edward said smoothly once the gentle moans had subsided. 

“Edward,” he replied softly, finally opening his eyes to look up at the fine specimen standing before him; completely naked in all his glory and sickeningly handsome, extremely sexy and if he hadn’t just come in his own hand he might consider claiming  _ him _ right back. But alas, that would be for another time — and there would be another. How could he be expected to resist such a man after having a taste of him? The flavour of which was still slowly seeping across his tongue, filling his taste buds with the deepest of pleasures; the most divine taste he’d experienced in some months. 

“Here,” Edward said, his demeanor suddenly considerably softer than it had been since they’d entered the room together. “Use this.” He brandished a handkerchief and extended his arm out to him. He faltered none in taking it, quickly wiping his face and hand - though undoubtedly it would require a deeper clean later, but at least he would be presentable now. 

“Does that count as being  _ marked _ by me?” He asked, a wry smile turning up the corner of his mouth. 

“Yes, I’d say it does.”


End file.
